


Lust of the Conchords

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Flight of the Conchords (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murray introduces Bret and Jermaine to the Internet.  Fanfiction happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust of the Conchords

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hafital

 

 

"Listen -- I don't know how it works exactly," Murray said, tapping the smudged computer screen. "It's called the World Wide Web. It's American. Americans online."

"And we have fans in there?" Bret asked, eyeing the display at Electronics Discount Center dubiously. "In the computer."

"Yes," Murray nodded, checking his notes. "Electronic fan organizations."

"Like robots?" Bret asked hopefully.

"Those are breasts," Jermaine pointed out.

"No they're -- " Murray scowled at a jiggling pop up. "Well -- that's -- ignore that, it's called spam. It's bad e-mail. From criminals"

Bret crossed his arms. "That seems a bit weird."

"They want to enlarge my penis," Jermaine said.

"Stop -- stop it both of you, give me a second here." Murray struggled with the mouse. "We have to put you in the Google. See? We just type... right here. Flight of the Conchords. And see? Here we are." He squinted, reading aloud. "Lust of the Conchords..."

"They've got the name of the band wrong," Bret frowned.

All three men leaned in closer as Murray clicked on the link.

***

**Lust of the Conchords**

By MysticMel

By nightfall, the desert highway was pitch black. It was numbingly cold, and Bret began to shiver, a buzzing and electric presence next to Jermaine. Jermaine scanned the horizon, keeping watch on the faint jagged line where the stars met the mountain range in the distance.

"Jermaine -- if we die out here -- " Bret began.

"No," Jermaine said quietly, his deep, sonorous voice washing over Bret like a calming, warm blanket. "Don't talk like that."

The sounds of desert creatures and the wind answered him. But slowly, bit by bit, Bret closed the gap between them until his body rested gently against Jermaine's. They stood like that in silence, leaning against the trunk of their broken down car.

When Jermaine stretched and placed his arm over Bret's thin but wiry shoulders, the motion felt comfortable. Like coming home. Something ignited between them, hot as embers.

Then, without a word, they kissed. Jermaine turned to press Bret's smaller body against the car.

***

Bret frowned. "We don't have a car."

Murray attempted to cover the screen with both hands. "This is terribly inappropriate."

"And I'm not small," Bret mumbled.

"What happens next?" Jermaine asked, batting Murray out of the way.

***

Years in the making, the kiss lasted for only a few minutes. But it felt like a lifetime.

Bret could feel Jermaine's pulsing arousal against his thigh. He squirmed and gasped out of the kiss, dark eyes unsure, lips wet and flushed.

"Shhh," Jermaine whispered, nudging his jaw against Bret's forehead.

The moon was rising, and it lit them like specters, Bret's delicate features aglow as if from within -- Jermaine's unconventional, strong jaw line gleaming like the edge of a blade. Wordlessly, Jermaine led Bret to the front of the car, turned him, and eased him gently over the hood. He spread his palms along Bret's back, soothing him before slowly exposing his alabaster skin.

"Jermaine, it's cold," Bret whispered. "I'm cold."

"Not for long, Bret. Not for long."

***

Bret grimaced and shook his head slowly.

"Oh for God's sake," Murray muttered.

"Sirs," the Electronics Discount Center employee said quietly. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

***

Miles away form the nearest prying eyes, Jermaine hummed soft, encouraging sounds as he eased into his friend. It wasn't what he'd pictured, not a soft bed full of pillows and secrets. But with hours left before the light of dawn might save them from freezing, he had to show Bret how he really felt.

Beneath him, Bret felt exposed and vulnerable. But Jermaine's steady strokes sent waves of ecstasy along his spine. Soon he felt no cold -- only fire. And as he felt his climax grow, he cried out softly and closed his eyes.

"Jermaine," he cried out, again and again. "Jermaine!"

***

"I'm just saying," Bret frowned. "It seems a bit weird to keep it on the fridge."

"The nice lady printed it for us."

"Before she threw us out."

"After she threw us out," Jermaine corrected.

"Well -- only because you wouldn't leave without your dirty story." Bret continued eyeing the paper held against the fridge with a magnet in the shape of a kiwi.

"All I'm saying," Jermaine continued, "is that it'd be a waste of paper if we just threw it away."

"I would, it's rubbish. If it was that cold, we'd stay inside the car instead of standing along the motorway," Bret said.

"Also, I wouldn't have sex with you." Jermaine lowered his voice. "Excepting life or death situations."

"What?"

"It's not gay to save your best friend's life."

"But you -- "

"Listen, I saved your life, you should be thanking me." Jermaine scowled. "I could have let you freeze to death," he said pointedly. "I'm a hero."

***

The next morning, the sound of an engine buzzed in the distance. Near frozen, but warmed by the fire within, Jermaine and Bret untangled from their lovers' embrace and became friends once more. Only as friends could they make music. Their love was too complicated to share with the world.

Just as a tow truck appeared, Jermaine let his hand brush against Bret's, a silent acknowledgement that he would never forget they passion they had shared and the heat that had saved them.

"Thank you," Bret whispered. And in his heart, he longed to add, _my love_.

***

"The end," Bret read out loud, just as Jermaine opened the door and startled him. The paper slipped out of his fingers and fluttered to the floor of their flat.

Jermaine pointed at the paper on the floor. "What are you doing? Are you reading the computer story?"

"No, it fell. You left the window open and it blew down. You should get a better magnet or put it in a drawer. I'm not obsessed with your weird sex story."

"So? Good," Jermaine said, picking it up and securing it against the fridge.

"And even if I was reading it, it'd be to learn about survival in bad weather, that's all."

"Well -- that's exactly why. I'm keeping it. Exactly."

 

 

 


End file.
